


Falling With Style

by Catolyn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Motorcycles, Skydiving, Steve is an adrenaline junkie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catolyn/pseuds/Catolyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth is Steve just likes jumping out of airplanes. And other risky hobbies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling With Style

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing belongs to me. Marvel owns it all and Joss is my master.
> 
> \--
> 
> Quick fic written for a plot bunny that bit me from this: http://catolynwrites.tumblr.com/post/65068871761/shawarmababy-witty-line-drops gif set.
> 
> I probably should have been working on OtGDY, but I got distracted.

The truth is Steve just likes jumping out of airplanes. He knows he gets flack from his teammates about his cavalier attitude. But jumping is _fun_.

The first time he jumped out of a plane was at night over enemy territory, tracer rounds flashing through the air. He was utterly terrified. 

He’d gone through ground training when he’d enlisted. They’d given everyone the basic rundown of how to exit a plane, how long to count based on altitude, and where the ripcord was. There’d been lessons in how to land so you didn’t break a leg. There was even a little pamphlet with instructions on how to hide your ‘chute, or to turn it into a shelter.

A days worth of on the ground training did nothing to dispel the gut churning sense of dread. He was glad Peggy was being argumentative, it gave him something else to focus on before flinging himself in to the night sky.

The air had sharp, cold, knife-like fingers that dug in between the seams of his jacket, and tried to steal the breath from his lungs. The force of the wind nearly ripped his goggles off. Yet, somehow, between jumping clear of the plane and when he pulled his ‘chute the moment of terror passed, leaving him with a feeling of exhilaration and a grin. 

A year before he’d been a ninety pound asthmatic weakling with more bravado that good sense. Now, he still had more bravado than good sense, but he was strong and he was fast, and he would save his friend.

Over the course of the war he jumped a dozen more times. 

The first time he jumped with the Howling Commandos Dum Dum had taken one look at the grin plastered to his face as they prepared to jump and groaned. “Oh good Christ. You’re one of _those_ lunatics.”

“Of course I am, I’m with you aren’t I?” He’d retorted with a grin.

“No, you daft fool. You’re one of those idjits who actually _likes_ jumping out of a perfectly good plane.” Groused the older man.

From the front of the aircraft one of the pilots called back. “We’re approaching the jump point in five, four, three, two, one, mark.”

He grinned at his squad. “See you on the ground boys!” He took a few running steps and swan dove out into the open air with a whoop of joy. He didn’t see the white faced shock on Bucky’s face.

On the ground Bucky had punched him in the shoulder. “Punk.”

When he comes out of the ice there’s no war to be fought, and without a war to fight, there’s no reason to jump. Of course that changed when Thor grabbed Loki out of the back of the quinjet and Iron Man followed. Despite Natasha telling him he might want “to sit this one out.” he grabs a rig and straps it on. The back of the jet is open and there is all that open air calling him. Even if his sense of duty didn’t drive him there’s no way he’d consider sitting anything out when there was a chance of free fall to be had.

To him it had only been a few months since the last time he stepped into open air and watched the ground rush up to meet him. Hearing the air roar past his ears felt more like a homecoming that that stupid recorded baseball game ever did.

A few weeks after the battle of New York he learns recreational skydiving (he finds that word exceptionally apt) is a thing you can do. 

One of the first things he uses the internet for is researching the merits of different kinds of canopy’s. With a little help from Clint he buys a rig, finds the nearest drop zone, and starts going on weekends or between missions.

He likes the rush of jumping for missions more. There’s a flavor of risk that just isn’t there when he goes out to the DZ and is just Steve Rogers from Brooklyn; a guy with a taste for risk.

Recreational skydiving is a fair-weather sport and if the wind is up too much or the visibility too low then there’s no jumping to be had. On days like that he throws a leg over his motorcycle and tears out of the city and goes looking for the nicest piece of twisty pavement he can find to open up the throttle on. 

The wind doesn’t sound quite right and it doesn’t pull at his clothes the same way, but ninety on a deserted stretch of road in the middle of nowhere is as close as he can get on the ground.

When Tony learns about his skydiving habit he offers to make Steve a powered suit. “Your obsession with testing gravity is disturbing. Why would you ever trust your life a flimsy scrap of fabric?”

Steve shakes his head and says thanks but no thanks. He may not like having to hitch rides on Tony’s boot, but he’ll never give up the wind on his face and the rush in his blood when he steps out over empty air and lets gravity do its thing.

He sometimes wishes he never had to pull his ripcord, because free fall feels almost like flying. He loves the way the wind pulls at his skin and how his heart (strong enough now) pounds, and the euphoria the follows him for a good hour after his feet hit dirt.

When Darcy, Doctor Fosters irrepressible assistant and purveyor coffee to the scientific team, learns that he skydives she looks at him sidelong and grins. “You’re just an adrenaline junkie Steve. You need risk the way most of us need coffee.”

He gives her a slow grin. “I guess that’s why I want to ask you out to dinner then. I need a new risk to get my pulse going.”

She blushes tomato red and says nothing. For a moment Steve’s worried that he’s gone too far.

When she looks up at him her cheeks are still flushed, but her eyes are sparkling and there’s a mischievous smile curling around the corners of her lush, red, lips. “Pick me up at eight” She saunters away with a flip of her hair and an exaggerated sway to her hips. 

Steve feels his mouth go dry and his heart begin to race. He whets his lips as he watches her go. If chasing Darcy is that much of a rush, he can only imagine what catching her will be like. Better than free fall he thinks.


End file.
